


Becoming I

by SupernaturalFun (SPN_Fun)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Dubious Consent, F/M, Non Consensual, Oral Sex, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-11
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2017-11-26 02:00:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/645318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SPN_Fun/pseuds/SupernaturalFun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Author:</b> Incognita<br/>
<b>Fandom:</b> Supernatural<br/>
<b>Characters:</b> Sam Winchester/Dean Winchester, Trickster<br/>
<b>Word Count:</b> 3,833<br/>
<b>Rating:</b> R – for initial non-con and sexuality throughout<br/>
<b>Beta:</b> The excellent steffs58, so many thanks, sweetie!<br/>
<b>Disclaimer:</b> Don’t own ‘em – would never wish anything bad on them. This is fictional, using characters created by someone else.<br/>
<b>Warning:</b> Though I have no idea how you could miss it – this chapter and this fic venture into darker directions. Overall warnings for Non-Con, Dub-Con, Sex Toys, Torture.<br/>
<b>This Chapter:</b> Non-Con<br/>
<b>50KinkyWays Prompt:</b> Role-Play<br/>
<b>Summary:</b> The Winchester brothers are trapped by a Trickster, playing a twisted game they haven’t played before, especially with one another. Will they survive the Trickster's game. And if so, will they be whole?<br/>
<b>Author’s Notes: </b>I'm revising and reposting this on my original journal and adding each chapter here as I go ;)<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Being Played

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam wakes up in a new kind of nightmare.

##  **Chapter 1: Being Played**

When he woke, it was to a dark world.

He shifted carefully, finding his movements restrained. His breathing quickened in panic before he forcefully made it even out.

Something covered his eyes. And his mouth was stretched tight against some kind of large gag. He tested his bonds hesitantly and panicked slightly when he found no give.

His arms were drawn up over his head, course rope wrapped multiple times around both wrists and forearms, drawing his arms together to the elbow. His fingers could just make out another rope anchoring the bindings around his wrists. He tugged on it, and wasn’t surprised to find it tied off tightly

His shoulders ached. He shifted, trying to find some relief from the strain. But there wasn’t enough give. His ankles were tied, each to a separate corner of what felt like a bed. A fairly soft bed. What he could feel of it anyway. His stomach rested on something – maybe a pillow – lifting his behind in the air like an open invitation.

He felt the air shift in the room and realized suddenly, with trepidation, that he was naked. His skin flushed as he realized that his body lay wide open, tied down too tight to fight. How the heck had this happened? He cursed blurry memories, trying hard to find something, anything, to explain his predicament and figure out where the hell Dean was.

His senses prickled when he felt someone else in the room. He could just barely make out their even breathing. He stilled completely and listened, trying to hear something more, some clue. He instead heard the unmistakable sounds of a zipper and clothing softly scraping against skin.

A soft thump as something hit the floor.

Another.

He wasn’t a stupid. He was stripped, tied down to a freakin’ bed and someone else was in the room getting naked. He did the math.

When the bed dipped a moment later he startled, even though he wasn’t really surprised. His breathing quickened and his blindfold was wet against his eyes. He wasn’t crying.

No. He was not crying because some asshole was about to rape him. Shit! A hand, hot, on his lower back made him buck against the unwanted touch. He pulled frantically against the rope that held him stretched out, rubbing his wrists but gaining no leeway.

The hand on the small of his back rubbed slow, lazy circles in his skin, making goose bumps rise all over. He felt another hand on his butt, spreading his cheeks, and he grunted angrily, trying to move away. He received a slap to one cheek for his trouble. And while it shocked him for a minute, it didn’t really hurt.

As one hand spread his cheeks out, he felt the other hand leave his back and a moment later, a finger pressed against his hole. Something cold, wet was smeared around and barely inside. Then, without warning, a finger plunged deep inside him. He arched away from the intrusion, fighting the only way he could.

The finger worked his hole, sliding in and out relentlessly. Soon it was joined by another, scissoring inside him and opening him up. It didn’t hurt as much as he thought it would, kind of subdued to a dull ache after a while; but just the thought of someone doing that made him wish he could fight, smash out his fist and connect with ……

He gasped, groaning in shame and frustration, as another finger joined in opening him. He’d never been with another guy, never even thought about it and never had anything inside his ass before. When the fingers pulled free a moment later and something much larger nudged at his entrance, he was finally ready to admit he was scared.

The thick cock breached his opening, sliding firmly and deeply inside despite his attempts to dislodge it. The pain of the invasion darted sharply up his spine. He clenched his eyes shut under the blindfold, no longer caring as it grew wet. His muscles quivered as his whole body tensed against the intrusion.

The pain intensified as the this flesh slid home and he could feel the soft flesh of the man’s balls rest against his behind. He moaned, feeling the burn, as the cock started sliding out again. In and out; thrusting again and again. Sam tried to escape deep within his mind. And it worked for a little bit.

Then the person picked their pace up, jerking in and out of him erratically. While the pain wasn’t as great, the friction against his vulnerable flesh was rough and raw. The pace picked up he could hear the man’s breathing, ragged with intensity. He could hear, and feel, the balls slap against his ass every time they impaled him.

He’d never felt so thoroughly helpless in his entire life.

The person above him stiffened, grunted, and pushed in, spearing him deep one last time before pulsing, coming inside him with a hot rush. They rested against his backside for a moment. Sam grunted and pushed against them, trying to exert the small amount of movement he did have to his advantage.

They took the hint, moving away from him and pulling free with a soft plop. He was left exposed, come dripping from his behind and body still trembling with tension. In anger, he tried one last time to pull against the rope stretching him tight, but he only succeeded in tearing his skin. He slumped forward and silently willed the wetness away.

He was stronger than this.

He was startled when the blindfold was removed a few minutes later and he blinked against the dim light in the room. He turned his head first one way and then the other, trying to catch sight of his tormenter.

A figure finally stepped around so he would see, he shook his head in shock and denial. “No way. No!” He screamed through the gag, but his brother just shook his head and bent low to rest their foreheads together. As his face came close he could see his tear-streaked cheeks and was thoroughly confused.

“Sammy. I’m so sorry.” Dean’s rough voice cracked and his forehead bumped against his as if in reassurance. “I tried. Man. I did. But he would have hurt you if I didn’t do it.”

* * *

Dean straightened and then sat beside his brother on the bed, blinking back a few of his own tears.

He could tell the prankster had gotten exactly what he wanted for this little scene. He shook his head, trying to clear his head just a little. He reached to take the gag off of his brother’s mouth, flinching when Sam pulled away from him.

He reached a bit further and felt behind Sam’s head, unsnapping the strap there so the huge gag could be removed. He winced as Sam worked it loose, his jaw popping. He could still make out the tearstains dried over his brother’s face and carefully disregarded them as his brother met his eyes.

“Why?”

Dean flinched and closed his eyes at the hoarse, broken question. Looking at his brother, he raged against the situation. He took the knife from his boot and reached forward, slicing the rope holding Sam to the wall. Then he sliced the ropes holding his ankles to the bed, finally sawing carefully through the ropes around his wrists. He helped Sam sit up, slowly easing him up against him, sitting on the side of the bed.

Where to begin … the demented supernatural thing? Well, perverted, anyway … he looked studiously at Sam’s bare knee.

“Remember the hunt?” Sam’s glazed eyes focused briefly and he frowned. Nodded hesitantly. “Pattern of missing persons . . . survivors with only partially recalled memories . . . we couldn’t figure it out?”

He waited, but Sam just stared at him. He sighed.

“Remember we found the one thing most of the people had in common? The video guy at the movie place?” He checked the bump on the back of Sam’s head, petting the soft strands there in an attempt to comfort. Sam jumped at the touch, then seemed to relax slightly. “You went to check the guy’s house . . . I went to his office . . . you went missing.”

He closed his eyes again, reliving the panic of missing his little brother all over again.

“Was looking in the house . . . last thing I remember. Dean?” Sam’s voice was strained.

“Look Sammy . . . when I realized you were missing, I looked a little more into this Jeremy Kinch guy . . . I found a warehouse. This warehouse . . .” Sam turned to meet Dean’s eyes. He could tell his brother was really listening now, his eyes were sharper, more assessing. “Look, long story short, the guy found me when I came here. And he’s no guy. Not human, anyway. He’s got some serious mojo.”

“Why this? Why me? You?" Sam’s voice broke when he tried to continue, his face drawn up in confusion.

“You – I think because you got too close and he wanted to have some naughty fun.” Sam’s eyes widened and Dean hastened to continue. “From what I can tell, he likes to make his victims go through . . . sexgamesorsomething.”

He looked away, trying to ignore the blush that rose on his cheeks. Obviously, Sam wouldn’t let him off the hook.

“Wha’?”

“Sex games, Sammy. The guy gets his jollies making other people live out his pathetic little fantasies.”

“So was this it?” Sam’s quiet voice made him swallow.

“Not quite, Sam. He was . . . he tried . . . shit! Man, he has a whole bunch of things he was gonna do.” He took in Sam’s face and cursed his brother’s naiveté. “He thought he’d have sex with you and make you like . . . his little love slave or something.”

“Love slave?” Sam’s voice actually squeaked, his face turning a bright red. “But you . . . Dean?”

Sammy’s eyes narrowed and Dean knew his mind had probably jumped to some conclusions.

“Dean, what did you do? Why are you here? Is he going to . . .” At Sam’s horrified expression Dean leaned down and tried for a smile. And failed.

“When he realized we were brothers, he, uh, made a deal with me.“ After he’d thrown some holy water at it, tried to begin an exorcism, and even managed to ding it with a silver knife, anyway.

“Dean?”

“He said he wanted you. But, uh, I could take his place, take control … of you, and he’d let us go when it was done with.”

“…”

He knew what Sammy was thinking. ‘What the Hell?’ But seriously, when the thing flickered in and out of existence, created a couple copies, and literally played with Dean for several long minutes as he laid out his plan, well, he had no idea how to fight the thing but sure as fell couldn’t consider leaving Sam in its clutches, alone.

“He wanted to be your master, he let me take his place. Something about us being brothers made it a better deal for him or something.” Dean was trying really hard not to look Sam in the eyes right now.

“Master?”

“Like a Dom/sub relationship.”

“Dom/sub?”

“Master/slave, top/bottom, BDSM stuff . . . any of this ringing a bell?”

“Dean, what is he? Didn’t you have …”

“Weapons? Yes, but they didn’t work against the piece of shit. Tried all the usual suspects and nada … thinking he’s similar to our janitor friend, maybe?”

“You mean the …” Sam flinched as if thinking about listening ears, glancing around warily, before continuing in a whisper. “You mean like the …”

“Bingo.”

“Well, shit!”

Pretty much.

He glared again at the ceiling, knowing that the demi-fucker was watching them

“Hey asshole! Come and show yourself!” Sam jumped slightly as Dean shouted, looking at Dean like he was growing two heads or something. He watched out of the corner of his eye as his little brother looked down, his face flooding in shame. They both straightened as their tormentor appeared in front of them.

Dean angled himself slightly in front of his brother, Sam subconsciously leaning toward him at the same time. He heard Sam’s deep breath in and tensed slightly as Sam straightened in obvious anger.

“Why did you take those people? Kill them?” Dean glanced at his brother, somehow not surprised that Sammy’s first question wasn’t even about himself. He looked at the creature with barely suppressed rage. Mr. Kinch, for his part, just looked amused.

“It entertained me, of course.” His eyes twinkled as he met Sam’s eyes, raking a leering gaze over his barely covered body. “You, though, you came to me. I would enjoy having you for myself. I like you.” His voice sounded almost affectionate for a moment, before he smiled brilliantly.

“I didn’t do anything to you.” Sam’s voice was small, puzzled.

“Oh, but you would have tried . . . little hunter.” At that Dean laughed, the sound almost brittle, feeling Sam trembling against him. He tried to distract the kinky bastard, hoping to give Sam a break.

“Sasquatch here? Little? Do you need your eyes checked?”

“Hardly. I am a god, after all.” The leer was back, and the immortal’s eyes slowly took in Sam’s near-nakedness with a cavalier smirk. “I know Sammy here is anything but . . . small.

“You asshole . . .” Dean tensed, ready to stand and maybe even take a swing at the creature. “What, you can’t get laid any other way?”

“Dean, can we not annoy the immortal please?” Sam pulled on his arm, forcing him to stay seated.

“Like I said, I like you.” He smiled disarmingly at Sam, who glared in response. “You little hunters came here unprepared. I could have just killed you and your brother, but I thought ‘why spoil some naughty fun?’” He smiled again, this time leering at Dean. “So I’ve worked out a very generous deal with big brother here.”

“Stupid fuckin’ asshole!” Dean glared at him, moving forward as if to stand.

“Dean, no!” Sam grabbed his arm, looking first at the immortal and then at Dean as he sat back down beside him. He suddenly stilled, eyes huge as they connected with Dean’s almost painfully. “You mean all that . . . the Dom/sub thing . . .”

“Yeah Sammy, I thought . . . I mean, well, I thought it would be easier if I . . . “ His head dropped, suddenly unable to meet Sammy’s or the immortal’s eyes. Now Dean wasn’t sure he made the right decision. Seriously, was being raped by his brother all that much easier than being raped by a freakin’ demigod? He had assumed . . .

“Sam?” He just couldn’t bring himself to actually ask if he had done the right thing. Sam’s face froze, then relaxed marginally as he answered the unspoken question. “ I trust you, Dean.”

“Whine, whine, whine. You guys are worse than a soap opera.”

“You sick bastard! You . . .” Sam’s voice cut abruptly as a large gag suddenly filled his mouth, almost choking him. He struggled to breathe through his nose even as he reached behind him to feel the straps there, hands only moving when Dean’s took their place. He settled for glaring at the bastard.

“You know, I’d keep him gagged all the time. He’s annoying when he speaks. And so much more fun to look at and play with. You must have thought about that sometimes Dean, surely?” The sheet Sam had clung to was ripped away and the immortal’s eyes gleamed as they roamed purposely over Sam’s nakedness. Sam’s anger increased and he he trembled in frustration and fury.

He could feel Sam shaking behind him, and knew he was pissed. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his brother’s long arm snake out to pull the sheet over himself again. Dean could tell that Sammy was about to his limit. He turned to face the demi-fucker.

“You said . . . “ The immortal interrupted him impatiently.

“I said that you could take my place, Dean. And I would let you both go when it was all said and done.” The thing called Jeremy paced and then stood in front of Dean, who had turned again to face his brother, finally able to pull the gag free. “But you’re not playing right, Dean. Sammy here is a slave and needs to be treated right.” He leaned in to crowd the older brother’s space. “If you can’t give orders, follow the agreement, I might have to reconsider the deal.”

“I fuckin’ … raped him asshole . . . sex games or not. That was the deal.” He turned to Sam, whose eyes were closed off yet still somehow vulnerable as he listened. “Sam, he wouldn’t let me talk to you until after I . . . well, after we had sex. It was part of the deal.”

The thing had dropped him in an embarrassingly short period of time, making all his weapons disappear with a look and a laugh, actually fucking laughing as Dean tried to punch him one in the fuckin’ jaw. And when he’d finally stilled enough to listen to the fucker he realized that Sam, alone, didn’t stand a chance.

Sam had already been trussed up, naked, unconscious, as Dean found himself suddenly in the same room. He’d gone to feel his brother’s pulse, relieved to find it steady, even as he tried to look anywhere but at the miles of tanned skin. He’d backed to lean against the wall, waiting, until years of practice in reading his brother’s tells told him that Sammy was awake.

Dean had known how scared his little brother was while he . . . It killed him, knowing that Sam was shaking, scared (even if he’d never admit it) because of him. But in the end he’d had to … do that … with his little brother. It sucked and it was wrong and he felt like shit.

“I’m sorry, Sammy.”

“I . . . I understand, Dean. Really.” Dean tried to meet his eyes, but he averted his gaze, tears glazing his eyes. Sam sniffed, gathering himself to put on a mask of defiance and meet the immortal’s eyes. “What is it you want? What do I . . . we have to do now?”

“I want your brother to break you, just like I would have. The fact that you’re brothers makes it all the more sweet. I could master you, could master you both. But to watch you two together . . .” He closed his eyes for a moment, licking his lips in an expression of revolting ecstasy. “To watch Dean assert control, make you submit to his demands . . . that will be so much more delicious. Even better than doing it myself.”

It stepped forward, reaching out and pulling Sam out from behind Dean by his hair. He leaned forward, and used Sam’s long hair as a leash, forcing his head back viciously to kiss him full on the lips. Sam pushed him away, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, disgusted.

“Bastard!” Sam eased back beside Dean, and though he flinched at the initial touch, he allowed Dean to grab his hand, squeezing reassuringly. “Why can’t you just conjure up someone to play your sick games?”

“Ah, yes, young Sam, I could . But I so prefer using the real thing. So much more . . . satisfying.” He smirked and stepped away. A small book rested in his hands suddenly. And in a dizzying moment, the room they were trapped in changed, expanded. If they had any doubt about the creature’s power the brothers both stiffened at the display. “The agreement is spelled out there, Dean. “

He handed the small book to Dean, who looked at it in disgust. Then another volume appeared in his hand, and he handed this one to a reluctant Sam.

“This is a little manual that spells out the world you boys will be living in now. My own little kinky kingdom.” Sam rested the book on one thigh, still trying to take everything in. Dean watched him in concern. He knew a little bit about this stuff. He’d played here and there with some cute girls who were quite enthusiastic, actually. He didn’t think it would be that difficult. If they could just get past the whole brother thing. He peeled his eyes from Sam to focus on the immortal again.

“Everything you need will be in this suite. You have a full kitchen, plenty of food, and water.” He sneered at Dean. “All the toys you need to fulfil your agreement are here as well. Plus a few amenities that should make things a little more enjoyable.”

With those words, he disappeared, leaving the brothers in uncharted territory.

“So it’s a little kinky sex. Sam – we can do this. We’ll finish this and get out of here. Then we’ll kill the sonofabitch.” At the resolve in his voice, Sam turned to him. He tried to look reassuring, letting a small grin out.

“So, what’s a little sex between brothers, huh?” His little brother’s voice was dull, sad. Dean hated the vulnerability that crept into Sam’s face.

“We’re freaks anyway, right? We’ll do this, kill the sonofabitch as soon as we can. Then we can move on. Like it never happened.” Sam stared morosely straight ahead. Then he dropped his head and pillowed it in his hands

“It’ll be okay Sam. I swear.”

His brother lifted his head at that, meeting Dean’s gaze evenly. He looked fragile, and Dean hated it. But he also looked determined.

“How about I, um, take a bath and stuff. If that’s okay?” He looked unsure and Dean wanted to reassure him.

“Yeah. I’ll go see what the asshole left us to eat.” He studiously avoided looking as his brother rose slowly from the bed, heading towards what had to be a bathroom in the corner of the room. He heard his small gasp as he moved and felt guilty as hell.

This totally sucked, but he was more determined than ever to keep his game face on. He knew they were going to be living with the consequences of this long after they got out of here.

If they got out of here.

No, when. Damnit. He would stay positive. Of course it went without saying they’d be trying to stick it to the asshole as soon as they could. They just had to hang on until they figured it out.

He busied himself in the kitchen, pushing the doubt away. They could make it through okay. Even Sammy could live through this. Seriously, it was just a little kinky sex.

Right?

Dean flicked the switch on the coffee maker as he heard the water run in the bathroom.

Right.


	2. Learning the Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the brothers learn the rules of this game, for now at least.

##  **Chapter 2: Learning the Game**

Sam had held his head together until he was able to hide in the shower, but as the hot water pelted his skin he slid down the wall and wrapped his long arms around his knees. The hot water felt cleansing. He just wished it could really help him feel clean.

His brother had to … shit Dean had to . . . with his own brother. He shook his head. Dean didn’t have a choice. It was given that he’d much prefer Dean to some supernatural prick of a half-god fucking with him. Fucking him.

He pretended the water trickling down his cheeks was from the hot spray; ignored the salty taste as the moisture met with his dry, chapped lips. He got up gingerly and stood under the steaming spray. His whole body was sore.

They had to figure some way out of this. He could forget about what Dean did – what Dean had to do. But they had to figure some way out of this. They were brothers. Forget the fact that he’d never even so much as been interested in guys before. They were brothers. It was wrong. On so many levels.

He groaned, swallowing back a sob. He just needed to get it together. He clamped down on his emotions, choking back another sob before he angrily wiped at his eyes. He was strong enough to do this. It was . . . just another hunt.

If he could just forget about . . . everything else. Focus on the hunt. Focus on getting out of this nightmare. He moved on automatic pilot, scrubbing, scrubbing himself raw. And if he was shaking a little bit when he reached to turn off the water, he could write it off as adrenaline. Yeah. Sure.

His leg muscles cramped a little as he stepped from the tub. He stepped forward in a half-lunge to try and loosen up and then realized that was the wrong thing to do. He almost fell over as a sharp pain lanced from the base of his spine through the small of his back. He groaned, straightening and using the sink to balance.

He grabbed a towel from the rack on the wall, wrapping and then cinching it around his waist. Man, even his stomach hurt. Everything hurt. He stretched his arms up over his head.

Glancing around and hugging himself he finally clenched his fists and took a deep breath to calm himself. He could do this. It was just another hunt. He kept up the chant mentally as he walked through the backroom door, taking the few short steps into the bedroom area. The hunter turned in a circle, then walked around the bed to a small dresser resting against the opposite wall.

Nothing.

He walked back around to the front of the bed and opened the closet.

Nothing. Not even a hanger.

He looked back at the bed and grimaced.

Taking a deep breath, he moved toward the kitchen. He wrapped his arms around his chest, hugging himself tightly and hunching over. He wished he could just disappear. Instead he met Dean’s gaze, flinching at the intensity in his brother’s eyes. He looked away, mumbling.

“There’s nothing for me to wear.”

“Couldn’t hear you Sammy.” Dean turned from the wall, where he had been fiddling with something. Sam frowned, then turned away.

“I said, I don’t have anything to wear.” He felt so freakin’ inconsequential, manipulated, used. He turned back and moved slowly toward the couch.

“Yeah, um . . . about that.” Sam narrowed his eyes, suspiciously, and looked at his brother while dropping to carefully sit on the couch. “I think that’s because of the deal.”

Sam pulled a couch pillow over, hugging it in front of him. He wasn’t following what his brother was saying. Dean must have realized, because he sighed and sat on the other end of the couch; a full cushion in between them. Sam hated how much that reassured him.

“I looked over the little books while you were in the shower, and . . . shit, Sam. This is so screwed up.” Sam snorted. He couldn’t help but agree. “According to the stupid book, Slaves don’t need clothes.”

"…"

"And, since you were cast in the role of …" Not that freakin' word again!

“I am not a fuckin’ slave, Dean.” His eyes burned as he looked back up to meet Dean’s eyes.

“No. You’re my brother, Sammy. I know . . . but if we’re gonna get through this, we’ve gotta play by the rules.” Dean took another deep breath. Sam almost felt sorry for him; he looked miserable. His temper soared at the injustice.

“You know, even the Romans let their slaves have loincloths.” He was supposed to sound angry, not like he was begging. But he needed for Dean to make this better somehow. He could only handle so much. He and Dean both gasped a second later when a small piece of leather on a string appeared on the cushion between them. That did it. “I am not fuckin’ wearing that.”

“Hey asshole!” Dean was yelling in the air, obviously at their well-entertained Trickster. “That is not funny! This is the 21st century – how about some boxers, sweats . . . a t-shirt?”

Dean picked the loincloth up, pulling on the string for a second. He barked a short, sarcastic laugh.

“How the hell did they ever even wear these things? Looks like a Japanese slingshot.” Sam snorted. Trust his brother to try and joke. He snatched the boxers up when they appeared a second later. He waited for a beat, but nothing else appeared.

“I guess I should just be grateful for these.” If he sounded sarcastic . . . too bad. He got up with a small shred of dignity and went into the bedroom to pull on the cotton shorts, noticing with disgust that they were tight. Dean appeared behind him a minute later and handed him a t-shirt. His t-shirt. He swallowed a lump, feeling humiliated, and pushed it back towards him.

“One of us should be able to be dressed, Dean. Keep it.” But the shirt was shoved right back in his face. He took a small step back.

“Look, dude, I’d give you my jeans, but they won’t fit those freakishly long legs of yours. So . . . just take the shirt, okay?” His mouth went dry as he pulled the shirt slowly from Dean’s hands with a mumbled “thanks”, realizing that Dean had made a gesture of support not pity. He pulled the shirt on, grateful to not have to feel quite so naked. Boxers only went so far. Especially these tight-ass things.

The shirt was a little small. He was more broad-shouldered than Dean. But he wasn’t complaining.

“No problem, Sam. Why don’t we eat a little something and then go over stuff, okay?” Dean moved past him without meeting his eyes again. The thought of food made Sam’s stomach turn.

“Coffee? Not really hungry.”

“Yeah. Dude left a coffeemaker, at least.”

“Good.” Sam looked around a little. He had grabbed the small book he saw on the edge of the couch, but didn’t see the second one. “Where’s the other book? Maybe I can figure something.”

“I was looking at it over there. Just . . . here . . . I’ll grab it for you.”

“I can get it.” His long legs beat Dean to the kitchen easily and he swiped the book from the counter there. He slouched over then, feeling guilty but hating feeling like he was weak even more. He accepted a cup of coffee from Dean a second later, said a small “thanks” instead of trying to apologize for sounding like a prick. He made his way to the couch again, sitting down carefully.

Right now, he just needed to focus. Maybe he’d see something, anything that would get them out of this. He racked his brain for a moment, trying to remember bits of legend and myth about the Trickster. Then he shook his head, opening the first book.

There had to be something.

* * *

Dean watched his little brother, concerned. He knew he was closing off. Not that he could blame him. He didn’t miss the wince and small gasp of pain as Sam settled into the couch.

Sam would see it soon enough. He’d read through the books quickly – they weren’t that thick – Dean couldn’t see a way out of this but he was willing to let Sam try. He had, however, seen a small thing there. The prick was more than willing to provide for his entertainment.

He went into the bedroom, not wanting Sam to realize just how closely they were being watched. The thing was an immortal after all. And he was getting his jollies off watching everything they did.

He retreated just a little further, closing the bathroom door and leaning against it. He let the cooler surface of the door soothe his own aching head as he rested his forehead against the hard surface.

“You can’t expect Sam to last like this.” The loud whisper crossed his lips and he lifted his head defiantly. He was desperate to help Sam, hurting for his brother so bad it almost hurt.

“Whatever do you mean, Dean?” He whirled to find the immortal’s reflection taunting him with a grin in the mirror.

“Humiliating him like that. I mean, seriously . . . no clothes?”

“It’s what is expected of a slave. They are, after all, expected to be able to serve their master at any time.” The thing’s eyes twinkled and Dean really felt like punching the mirror.

“Well, see, I don’t agree. Sam isn’t a slave, a thing. He’s my brother. He’s a person: A really smart, nice guy who doesn’t deserve to be treated like a possession.”

“Ah, but what about your agreement . . . don’t tell me you would rather I stepped in after all, Dean.”

“No.” Dean backtracked; he didn’t want that at all. “but look, I didn’t think you meant you really expected him to be a slave, all the time, I mean – it’s a game for the bedroom, not something he has to … be.” Dean met the creature’s eyes in the mirror, pleading in a way Dean Winchester rarely did. “Please . . . this will kill him. Don’t do this to him. Let him have some pride.”

“What would you have me do, Dean? We have an agreement, remember? Sam is your Slave and he should be treated accordingly.” the Immortal smirked and Dean felt a renewed urge to smash the mirror. He took a deep breath

“Just, give me a little leeway. Some time . . .”

“You want to go slowly? Now that is a sweet though, but . . .” The thing’s voice hardened; “. . . that’s hardly the way a master talks.”

“A master who truly cares about his slave does.” Dean took a deep breath and said words he never even said to his brother. But if it would help, he’d lay himself open to this asshole. “Sam’s my brother, and I love him. I don’t want to just hurt him and control him. If I’m gonna do this, I’m gonna be careful and do it right. You’ll still get your jollies, but I won’t hurt him.” He would really enjoy killing this bastard.

“I suppose the . . . affection . . . you have should be taken into consideration. I could grant you some leeway.”

“Clothes?”

“I like Sam naked.” His leer made Dean want to be sick. “I wouldn’t mind you staying naked either. You’re both sexy guys. Fun to look at. Why would I want you to have clothes?”

“Asshole.”

“Yours or Sam’s.” The thing leered again, raising a finger stick in its mouth, sucking. Dean swallowed back bile. The creature dropped the act and looked almost serious. “Alright, I’ll think about it. What else, Dean?” The colorless eyes met his intently and Dean clenched his fists. He shouldn’t have to feel like he was begging.

“Some Tylenol or something…. Please.” He knew Sam was sore. And if Sam needed it, he could say please to the devil.

“I could make sure your medicine cabinet is stocked.”

“And dude, as much as I love the food you’ve provided, we need more than Twinkies and candy bars to survive.”

“There was other food in there.” Did the asshole actually sound wounded? Seriously?

“You know, just because you need sugary stuff to survive doesn’t mean we do. I mean, we’ll eat the stuff, but we need other things too: Meat, potatoes, fruits, veggies.” Did he just say fruits and veggies? He rolled his eyes. He remembered that Tricksters had a high metabolism and ate exclusively sweet foods. And as much as he liked his . . . “Hey I will take some peanut m&m’s, though. Some gummy worms for Sam, maybe.”

“What am I? A grocery store?”

“We wouldn’t need the food if you’d just let us go.”

“Oh, you can go if you want, Dean.” The asshole licked his lips.

“I don’t think so. Just, give us the other food.”

“But what do I get out of it?” Dean’s eyes narrowed, then opened wide as the creature appeared behind him suddenly. He turned to face it, relaxing onto the balls of his feet.

“What do you want?”

“A kiss. One little kiss from those sinful lips of yours, and I’ll let you have what you’ve asked for. Let you have the stuff for your Sammy.”

“It’s Sam, you sick freak.”

“Whatever. So . . . a kiss?”

Dean took a breath. “Fine.”

“With tongues.”

“WHAT….Man, you are a sick…..” Dean stopped; it would get stuff they needed. Some clothes for Sam. “Just so we’re clear . . . clothes for Sam and me; pain meds; food; and let me do it my way, take my time with Sammy. And in return you get one kiss.”

“With tongues.”

“Yeah, yeah. Fine.” He barely had time to brace himself as the immortal leaned forward, pushing hard lips against his own in a bruising kiss. He felt the Trickster’s hands as they gripped his face and then the tongue as it pushed, slicked against his lips, seeking entrance. He had to stop himself from pulling away. Then he deliberately opened his lips and let the tongue invade his mouth. He tried really hard not to gag.

Surprisingly, the taste wasn’t too offensive. Sweet, actually, but the thought of a supernatural piece of shit invading his mouth made it hard not to puke. He tried to pull away, deciding the kiss had gone on long enough, but the hands holding his head were like stone. He couldn’t move his head or knock the hands away.

He struggled to breath through his nose as the man pushed even harder against his mouth, bruising his lips and trying to swallow his tongue. He tensed as he suddenly felt a hand touching him, palming him through his jeans. He tried to yell something at the asshole, but the thing just chuckled as he continued to attack his mouth. Dean still holding the other arms, pushed harder, pulling to try and get away from the immortals version of tonsil hockey and that freakin’ hand. The thing had an iron grip on his hair by now, and try as he might, he couldn’t get away from the other hand either. He was trapped.

“Dean? I gotta . . .  GET THE HELL AWAY FROM HIM!” Dean barely registered Sam opening the door but his loud, angry voice punctured his panicked breathing. He heaved in relief when the immortal finally released him, licking its lips. Dean grimaced, wiping his mouth off roughly. He turned to Sam, trying to figure out how to calm the situation down.

Instead, he found himself grabbing Sam and pulling him away from the immortal. His brother had practically leapt the couple feet to smash a fist into the thing’s jaw. Go Sammy … but, yeah, let's not beat up the demi-god, well, until they could win the fight. He pulled his brother back and pushed his struggling form behind him. It took everything he had to keep his brother behind him. Times like this he really wished his brother wasn’t a tall freak.

“You know, I’m feeling so generous I’m just going to forget about that and call our deal even.” He licked his lips again, looking meaningfully at Dean before winking at Sam. “We’re even, Dean. You’ve gotten everything you asked for.”

“Dean?”

“Just don’t worry about it Sam.”

“Yeah, Sammy, don’t worry about it. Big brother just bargained for a few . . . things. Paid in kind, so to speak.” He was gone before either brother could react.

Dean nudged Sam out of the way, grabbing a small cup by the side of the bathroom sink and rinsing his mouth out with cold water half a dozen times. Damn. He forgot to ask for toothpaste.

A mocking chuckle echoed in the small bathroom as two toothbrushes and a tube of toothpaste appeared beside the sink. Dean closed his eyes. This really sucked. The damn thing was in his head.

* * *

“I really wish you hadn’t done that, Dean.” Sam looked up at his brother through the fringe of his bangs. “But thanks.”

He’d already changed into a plain white t-shirt that had appeared in the dresser, handing Dean back his own t-shirt. While he felt more comfortable now, he hated that Dean let himself be used just to help him.

“I did it for myself too. No biggie.”

“You call being violated by . . . demi-god tongue . . . nothing?”

“Yeah, well, beats being violated by demon tongue.” He laughed, and Sam rolled his eyes. Sometimes, Dean’s crazy sense of humor was oddly comforting. Even when he knew it was an act.

Sam paused, then looked back at Dean.

“So, I was looking at those books. You read them?”

“I looked through them. Why? You find something?” Was Dean as desperate to find a way out as he was? He met his eyes and decided that, yes, he was. Dean’s eyes were intense and focused on him, and he sighed in defeat.

“No, not really. A little too much information on what makes a good slave.They're pretty much the same book, looks like a bunch of stupid rules.” He propped his chin on top of his knees, curling his body in and trying to sink back into the couch. “Otherwise, it's pretty straightforward. If the thing can be trusted to follow it.”

“What’s our chances otherwise? I don’t have any of my weapons except for my knife.” Dean sat down heavily on the couch, then straightened a little, turning toward him. “You remember what’ll kill one of these things?”

“Wood stake through the heart. But it was a special kind of wood … I just can't think of the name.” Sam had already considered that, while studiously looking around their prison. “He’s not an idiot. None of the furniture is even wooden. I looked around.”

“Yeah, well I did a little looking while you were in the bathroom earlier: No doors out of here; no windows either.” Dean’s words just proved the obvious. He had figured as much. He sighed. They both seemed to have the same idea, though, getting up again to start walking around the edges of the room looking for something, anything, that might be a weak spot

“Only thing I can think of, if we can trust it, is to work our way through the terms of the agreement as quick as we can.” The agreement was simple. Sam just shuddered at the thought of what they would have to do. With each other, no less.

“So, kinky sex it is then.” Dean sounded about as enthusiastic as he was feeling. Their best option sucked.  “Just ignore the brother thing, huh?”

“Do we have a choice?” Dean had a good point. They didn’t really have another alternative. What a nightmare. Dean moved a little closer to him and he looked at him warily. “You trust me, right, Sammy?”

“’Course I do, Dean. It’s just . . .”

“Look, Sam, I think we are just going to have to suck it up here.” Sam winced at the pun in Dean’s interruption. Dean hung his head, but then lifted it with a determined look on his face. “Before we start listing all the reasons why we can’t do this, why don’t we try a little pretending?”

“Su-re.” He rolled his eyes just in case Dean missed the sarcasm.

“Just . . . pretend I’m not . . . me.” His cocky smirk made it impossible for Sam to hold the snort of disbelief back. “I mean it, Sammy. Just . . . pretend we’re just two guys here, and you feel like doing some experimenting.”

“Experimenting?”

“Better yet, you just pretend to be the girl.”

“Girl?……Dean! Man…….” Sam shook his head “I think I’d rather pretend to be gay.”

“Whatever…. You did that play in high school – so just do a little method acting here. Pretend. Experiment. Role-play. Whatever.”

“What are you going to be?”

“I’m going to be the sexy one. I mean, seriously, dude. ” Dean grinned and cross his arms, obviously proud of himself. “We both know I’m the sexiest man alive.”

“Mm-hm. Su-re. Dude I thought this had to be believable” Sam smirked at his brother and Dean began to feel that this might just work. “Okay I can pretend . . . what about the rest?”

“You trust me Sammy, right?” That question again. But Dean sounded a little small this time. Sam nodded. He really did trust his brother. “We can do this Sam, because whatever crap we do, whatever this thing is, nothing can change the fact that you are my brother and I’d do anything for you. Kinky sex is nothing.”

Sam nodded knowing not to say anything after that piece of confession. He knew that Dean was serious, he had known before Dean opened his mouth that his brother was there for him but to hear Dean actually say it was …hard.

“You know, Sam, you’re a good looking guy . . .” Did his brother just say he was good looking? He shut his mouth. “I mean it, Sam. You’re good looking . . . really. And we know how sexy I am.” There was that cocky smirk again. Dean really had no self-esteem issues.

“So?”

“So . . . I just mean it could be worse.”

“Okay.”

“And . . . did you just say okay?” Dean looked at him suspiciously. He nodded. They had to do this. The sooner they figured the logistics out, the sooner they could fulfill their end of the stupid agreement. “Okay, what?”

“Kiss me.” Did he just say that? Huh. Yeah, he did. Okay. Yeah. They could do this. One little kiss. “It doesn’t mean anything; we’re just pretending.”

He held eye contact with Dean and, receiving the reassurance he needed, nodded again. Then he closed his eyes and relaxed. A second later soft lips covered his, pressing gently. Okay. Yeah. He could do this. They pulled away from each other for a heartbeat, then they both relaxed into the kiss.

Dean’s mouth opened slightly and he pulled slightly on Sam’s bottom lip, suckling lightly. Oh. Now that . . . yeah. Sam leaned into the kiss, sighing at the sensation.

One of Dean’s hands cupped the side of his face, as Sam opened his mouth more and Dean’s tongue darted out to trace the edges of his lips. He allowed himself to respond. Dean’s tongue plunged in, swirling, tasting Sam’s tongue, his inner cheek, and then retreating to flicker over his lips again.

Sam groaned now, the sensation running down his spine. He leaned further still, and found himself chest to chest with Dean but at the moment, he was more concerned with tasting the inside of Dean’s mouth. His tongue tentatively escaped, circling Dean’s full lips before diving into his brother’s hot mouth. Coffee. Something a little sweet. And then, just Dean. Someone groaned. It was Dean. Sam smiled into his mouth, tongue still busy exploring, tasting.

He finally pulled his tongue back, playfully pushing, sliding, against Dean’s tongue. And then the kiss was ending with wet lips and slight panting. Dean leaned forward, pushing one last heavy kiss against his lips, and then they were both pulling back. His eyes opened to meet Dean’s.

Hm. Yeah.

He grinned, and Dean did too. Dean’s eyes were dark, flashing dangerously with something. Then he saw Dean flush before his eyes widened and he looked away.

Okay, so that was . . . more than he had been thinking it would be.

“So, you think we can pretend?” Dean smirked, but his voice was just slightly higher pitched than normal and Sam huffed a soft laugh, his head dropping, embarrassed.

“Yeah, I think maybe we can work with that.”

Embarrassed? He wasn’t embarrassed. And Dean sure as hell wasn’t embarrassed. No way. If he read his brother correctly, he was turned on. They were just gonna pretend to be – he grinned inwardly – world’s sexiest man and some random gay dude. Right. Bring it on.

He would just have to learn how to play his role, and Dean would too.

That was all.

Role-playing.

They did that all the time.


	3. Giving In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Giving in to the rules of the game should probably not feel like this.

##  **Chapter 3: Giving In**

Dean wondered how long they would be here.

If they would ever be able to get out of here.

They were Winchester’s, and being trapped and forced to be nothing more than sex toys for a demi-god was not something that Winchesters were comfortable with or even contemplated. Except, apparently, they did. Because here they were.

Half-gods f*cking sucked.

He had played the awkward game with Sam for several long minutes before escaping after that hot liplock. So now he was hiding in the bathroom, ready for a nice, hot shower. Maybe he should make it a cold one, instead. He put a trembling hand to his face and contemplated that. Yeah, cold was a good idea.

He stepped in, the shock of the cold water helping clear his mind for a minute. But all too soon, his thoughts turned back to that kiss. It had taken him by surprise. He hadn’t expected to lose himself in it, for starters. He didn’t expect to actually like it. He had assumed he would have to pretend. Sam was his brother, after all.

Instead, he had actually been turned on by the kiss. And Sam’s face after the fact had been priceless. Not in the big-brother-gonna –tease-him-about-it-forever kind of priceless, though. No, Sam’s flushed face, wet and slightly bruised lips, and wide eyes had been priceless in a way he was embarrassed to call “cute.” He had actually thought his brother looked cute. His brother: Cute.

He groaned.

It wasn’t the kissing and screwing that he was so worried about. He didn’t worry about stuff like that. Nope. He was much more concerned that he thought his own brother was not only cute, but cute in a sexual way. He hadn’t expected to feel that way, that little tug. It took him by surprise, and he didn’t like surprises.

He extended his neck and pushed his face into the cold spray, the icy spikes cooling his hot skin.

He blinked and pulled back from the frigid spray, then reached down to turn the hot water on. The cold water had helped bring his dick under control, but it wasn’t doing anything for his imagination.

At this point, they had a couple problems. Okay, aside from the obvious predicament of being sex toys for a half-god piece of shit. Dean still figured their best chance lie in fulfilling that stupid agreement. He didn’t really trust its’s word, but he found the idea of that thing being Sam’s master even more disturbing. So for now, they needed to work on their end of the agreement. That meant they needed to start getting to know each other: Really getting to know each other.

And that brought up the other dilemma. How? How do you go about starting a sexual relationship with your brother? Not just any kind of sexual relationship, but a Dom/sub one at that. The kiss had at least proven that they could react to each other sexually. But that was a physical reaction. And a Dom/sub relationship counted on an emotional relationship under that physical attraction. They kind of had that, since they were brothers and everything.

He shook his head: Too much thinking. He turned the faucets off and reached for a towel. He opened the curtain and was surprised to see Sam standing there, looking for all intents and purposes like he wanted to be somewhere else.

“Man, warn a guy.”

“I just . . . I was thinking, and . . . oh, screw it.” With that, Sam flushed bright red and then turned and left, almost running in his haste. Dean shook his head, frowning. What was going on in Sam’s freaky head? He huffed, dressing quickly. He found Sam sitting in front of the bed, arms wrapped tight around his knees and his chin resting softly on top of his knees. He sighed.

“Sam?” His brother blinked, then turned his head, still resting his cheek on his knees. He looked at Dean with shining eyes. “Sammy? What is it, man? What where you . . . thinking?” He sat down with a small “oomph” beside Sam and waited for him to answer.

“I’m thinking that this is a fuckin’ nightmare.” Sam sounded angry. Angry was good; they could work with angry. “And . . .” He took a deep breath, and Dean leaned toward him slightly. “And, I looked at the stupid agreement, and the other book, again.”

“And?” It didn’t sound like he’d found their magic get-out-of-jail-free clause.

“We’re going to have to do . . . stuff . . . that I don’t think either of us is really okay doing. And I just . . . look, you’re only here because of me. And I think it would be a good idea for you to . . .” Dean narrowed his eyes and leaned a little closer to Sam, pushing his way into Sam’s personal space.

“Forget it Samantha, I’m not leaving you here.”

Sam winced inwardly at Dean’s attempt at humor “I’m serious Dean, this way you would be free. Hell, you could work on finding a way to get me out of this, maybe.”

“No way, Sam. Not gonna do it.” The affirmation grew in his voice.

“I doubt it’s even gonna let us go. But if I’m willing to stay, maybe . . .well, you'd be safe _Safe, Dean._ ”

Dean jerked Sam’s shoulder around, forcing Sam to meet his eyes. “Sammy, I’m not leaving here without you.” There was silence as each, unwilling to break the moment, sat. At last Dean looked away. “We’ll figure a way out of this together.”

“No! This is my fuckin' choice, Dean. You can't stop me from at least trying! _I can't stand that you're here because of me._ ”

“For the last time, no!” He stood and walked heavily to the doorway, guilty for kicking the kid when he was just being worried. He dropped his head. Stupid girly brother and his need for chick flick moments. “Sorry, Sammy. But no! That would be going against everything I have _eve_ stood for. So no. Just NO.”

He turned back toward his brother and closed the distance between them. The older man dropped to his knees and waited forever for Sam to meet his eyes.

“I don’t want to be the reason you’re trapped here too.” Sam’s soft, broken voice sounded defeated. His little brother’s eyes, always so expressive, glimmered with guilt, shame and fear.

Dean ached, he was gonna protect Sam from all of this. That fucking trickster was so Dead.

Right now, though, he had to get through to Sam; he wasn’t going to let some monster break his little brother.

“Try to understand, Sam. I can’t, I won’t leave you here. You tellin’ me you would leave me if the situation was reversed?” Sam looked at him sharply and Dean nodded. Of course Sam wouldn’t leave him. They were brothers. Sam was all he had left. He couldn’t lose him.

“I’m sorry, Dean. I just . . . hate feeling so fucking helpless.” Sam looked at him, wiping angrily at another errant tear. “I feel so pathetic.” Sam turned his head. “Not to mention, if we go through with this . . .”

“If we go through with this . . . what?”

“It’s just, it would be different if this was just about sex: If this was something you and I did on our own. But it’s not, Dean. Someone else is pulling the strings. Someone else is in control.” Sam looked away. Dean wished he could just say something stupid, lighten the mood. He could tell this was killing his brother. But nothing came to mind, and then Sam was continuing “We get out of here and everything is different. We’re different.”

And there was the problem.

“Sam.” When his brother didn’t look at him he sighed. “Look at me, Sammy.” His brother slowly turned to look his way. “You’re my brother, no matter what happens here. No fucked up half-god can change that.”

Sam’s eyes were swimming in emotion, but he met Dean’s gaze steadily and Dean nodded sharply. They were Winchesters. They could do this.

“You know what I think, Sam?” Sam’s eyes narrowed and he squared his shoulders. Good, he was finished with the pity party for now. “I think we need to do this thing. Our way. Just . . . screw it all and start, you know . . .”

“Having some kinky sex?” Sam finished his sentence with a half-smirk, his eyes still hooded with emotion. Dean nodded with a laugh.

“Hell yeah. ‘Cause, you know, I’m so sexy you know you can’t resist.” Sam dropped his head back and laughed. Honest to goodness he laughed. It was fleeting, but at least he had gotten through to his brother.

Sam rested his head on the bed behind him. Dean considered him for a minute, then thought ‘screw it’ and scooted the couple paces toward Sam, surprising him with a light kiss against his neck. He grinned into Sam’s neck when he felt his brother still completely.

“Dean?”

“Let’s just . . . forget about everything else and do some of that pretending.” He mouthed Sam’s neck, alert in case his brother panicked. He was surprised, just a little, when the kid leaned, barely, into the sensation. He worked the smooth skin there: licking, nibbling, tasting. Sam shuddered slightly, and pulled his head up to meet Dean’s eyes again.

“Dean?” Just a little bit of confusion, maybe vulnerability, colored Sam’s barely whispered question.

“That’s me.” He leaned forward with a smirk and lightly kissed the corner of Sam’s mouth, grinning when his mouth twitched. He didn’t really want to stop and think about this; Talk about this. “Trust me, Sammy.”

“Yeah. But . . .”

“No buts, Sam.” He nipped his jaw line with his teeth, the smoothed over the tiny hurt with his tongue. Sam’s breath caught, and the next moment he pushed against Dean. His face was flushed and eyes were wide. When he pushed, Dean eased away with a sigh and looked at him. So much for not talking. “You okay?”

“Yeah . . . no . . . shit!” He looked at him, eyes wide and almost begging. “I can almost pretend, Dean. But I know it’s you. I know. And I know this is just the beginning. And I . . .”

He was scared. Not that he would actually admit it. But as Dean studied him he saw it. He wasn’t just scared because of everything they were doing, everything that they had to do still. Dean knew his brother too well. His flushed skin, still-wide eyes – they told the truth. Sammy was turned on, and that scared the younger man too.

Well, hell. They were both healthy guys, forced together intimately. Brothers or not, they were gonna be attracted to each other at least a little. He certainly wasn’t freaking out because Sam turned him on. Not at all. He turned everyone on. Why not his brother? His little brother.

Man, he was turned on by his little brother.

They were so screwed.

“You know, it’s not like we have much of a choice. At least not yet. I’m not going to let that thing hurt you, Sammy. Not if I can do something about it.” Dean had turned away, speaking the truth but unable to meet Sam’s eyes. There was too much emotion there. Right now, he was trying his damndest to keep his own emotions under control.

And that, right there, that’s when he snapped. They were going to do this. They had to do this. It was time to just get started. Right now, playing the immortal’s game was all that was definitely keeping them alive. He had no doubt the thing had killed his previous victims after toying with them.

If it meant keeping Sam safe, he would just take charge. He was the big brother after all.

“Enough of this girly shit, Sammy. Just lean over here and kiss me.” Sam’s mouth opened and closed, and Dean plastered a cocky grin on his face.

“What am I, six? I don’t have to listen to you, Dean.” It was an automatic little brother response, and Dean dismissed it easily. He could _feel_ how scared Sam was by all this.

“Yes you do.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I’m the oldest.” He grinned, glad that Sam was sinking into their familiar banter. The little frown lines in between his brother’s eyebrows had relaxed and he was watching Dean with a hesitant expression. Then something flashed in his eyes and his lips curved into a small grin.

“So, you’re pulling the big brother card, huh?”

“Damn right! So get your ass in gear and kiss me.”

“Are you sure . . .” Sam hesitated for a minute and Dean growled.

“Sam . . . I told you to . . .”

“Kiss you. Okay, fine.” He glanced away, eyes flicking away and around the room before meeting Dean's once again. “Should we move to the bed?”

“Yeah . . . the bed’s good.” They pulled themselves up to standing and Dean studied his little brother’s face. He stopped Sam before he sat on the bed and opened his mouth to ask a question. But the words escaped him, and for some reason he couldn’t figure out what he was going to say. Sam sat heavily on the edge of the bed and looked at Dean. His eyes were dark beneath the fringe of his bangs.

“What do you want me to do, Dean?” He lifted his eyes, and Dean could tell this was the moment of truth. Sam was watching him in a way his little brother had never watched him before. Waiting.

“Are you ready for this, Sam? Can you let me be in control here?” He was surprised by a breathy laugh before Sam interrupted him.

“I don’t have much choice, Dean.” He grinned then. “But, yeah.” Then he looked down, cheeks a dark red, and Dean grinned.

“Then would you finally get your ass over here and kiss me?”

Sam was still grinning as he leaned in to press his lips against Dean’s. It was soft, almost hesitant. Dean let Sam relax into him slightly, then he opened his mouth and took his time tasting. He swirled his tongue outside the edge of Sam’s mouth, grinning slightly into the kiss when he felt Sam’s mouth twitch.

He brought a hand up to frame Sam’s face, putting more teeth into the deepening kiss. He lightly scraped the edge of Sam’s bottom lip, finally tugging it out and biting down on it gently. Sam sighed and relaxed until he was relaxed up against him. Dean used the opportunity to let his tongue explore Sam’s warm mouth. His brother surged into him with a small groan, playing with his tongue, gently biting it between his own teeth. When he sucked Dean’s tongue back into his mouth and continued to suck it gently for a moment, Dean moaned lightly. He used his free hand, sliding it under Sam’s shirt and feeling the heated skin of his brother’s back.

He felt Sam stiffen; whispered a gentle “trust me, Sammy.” And waited. Only a moment. And Sam relaxed, leaning into him again. Dean tasted the salty trademark of a tear and leaned away to look closely at his brother’s face. But he only saw the trail of a lone tear and then Sam was pushing gently into him, kissing him, wanting him. The kiss deepened, and Dean felt Sam’s hand traveling along his back. Following the lines of muscle. He felt a moan sound from this throat. So it was Sam’s fault that the kiss wasn’t enough. He needed to feel more. He groaned, pulling away from the kiss. He huffed a small laugh when Sam tried to follow his mouth, eyes still closed. Then Sam opened his eyes and looked confused, eyes wide and dark.

“Too many clothes.” He pressed a quick kiss to Sam’s swollen lips and then used both hands to lever Sammy’s shirt up and over his head. He tossed it behind him, uncaring where it landed. “Better.” He kissed Sam’s mouth again, hard, and then trailed small kisses down until he was tasting his brother’s neck.

“Dean.” Sam whispered his name and tugged at his shirt with a frustrated moan. “Let me . . . ?”

Dean grinned and eased away, lifting his arms so that his shirt could be ripped up and over his head. It was thrown . . . somewhere. And then he paused to look at Sammy. Even his chest was flushed. His eyes were almost glassy, pupils enlarged. His mouth was still slightly parted from their kiss. He groaned, capturing Sam’s lips to taste his mouth again. Who knew his little brother could taste so good?

The Kiss was awesome but it just wasn’t enough. He needed the heat, the friction of being skin to skin. As he watched his brother through half-lidded eyes, he could tell the younger man was falling deep into lust. His breathing was ragged, motions languid as he reached again for Dean. But this time Dean shook his head. Sam’s look of confusion made him press another kiss to his neck before forcing his brother to meet his gaze.

“Lay down, Sam.” He didn’t mean it to sound like an order, except that, now that he was thinking about it, he actually did. After a moment of silent contemplation, Sam slid toward the head of the bed, lying hesitantly on his back.

“This where you want me?” He sounded unsure, but had a small grin tugging at the corner of his lips. Dean read the expression as Sam giving him control of the situation. He decided to test that, see if he could push him just a little further.

“Yeah, but . . .” He crawled over his brother’s long torso and linked hands with him. He slowly, deliberately, brought Sam’s hands up, pressing them gently into the mattress just barely to the side of Sam’s head. “Keep your hands there, ‘kay?”

Sam nodded, just a little more tense. But he was trying. He was willing. Dean could work with this.

“Good.” He looked at his brother’s dazed expression with a grin of his own. Poor kid must have been sex-starved. “No matter what I do, try to keep your hands there.”

Sam met his eye and nodded sharply. He was still tense. But he was also still flushed, eyes wide and pupils large. Dean was always one to enjoy sex. Hell, he loved sex. But, man, seeing his brother like this, knowing he put that expression on his face: that was arousing.

He smiled and backed up slowly on the bed, until their cocks were lined up. Even through their clothing, he could tell there was plenty of interest on Sam’s part. And, well, his little guy was already screaming for the finale.

He lowered himself so that he was draped over Sam’s long form, then just barely pushed up onto his elbows. He looked to see if Sam’s arms were still there, and grinned. They were. He gyrated his hips, bringing his erection into firm contact with Sam’s growing length. He moved slightly, so that one knee was in between Sam’s legs, and pressed his erection hard into Sam’s thigh. Sam gasped. He grinned.

He was going to go slow and careful this time, not wanting to spook Sam now that he was ready to play. In the back of his mind, he cursed the Trickster. But in the forefront, all he saw was Sam, and his brother’s arousal was just turning him on more.

He leaned back down and fell into a kiss that was mostly teeth and lip, not having the inclination or the patience to wait between kisses before pressing even harder against Sam’s mouth. Then he worked lower, trailing kisses all over and under Sam’s jaw in a slow descent to his chest, he slowly dropped a hand down to palm his brother’s now fully hard length. Sam gasped, arching instinctively, and he squeezed gently on the throbbing erection. His boxers were so thin, Dean could make out the ridges of his sex, and he slowly rubbed his hand up and down the length.

A low moan sounded and Dean looked up to see his brother tensed, head turned to the side and eyes clenched shut. So he liked that, huh? Dean grinned. He pulled his hand away from the erection, and redoubled his efforts on kissing and licking his way down Sam’s chest. As he nibbled his way toward a nipple, Sam arched again, a small sigh escaping his mouth before he relaxed back into the mattress. He glanced up again to see his brother watching him with dark eyes. While his hands still lay where Dean left them, the fists were clenched, knuckles white.

Still watching Sam through half-closed eyes, Dean moved over to lick and then nibble gently on a rosy nipple. It hardened instantly, and he licked, suckling tenderly as he drew the hard nub into his mouth. He heard another soft moan and realized his brother was completely lost in the age old cadence of lust. He bit down softly on the tip of the nipple, soothing the small hurt with a flick of his tongue, and then he moved over to the other nipple. It was already hard, waiting. He gave it the same attention, licking and sucking, and then drawing it, too, into his mouth and swirling his tongue around the hard nub again and again. He suckled gently and then bit the nipple, just barely. Sam gave another breathy moan. Dean let the nipple escape from his mouth with a slight smile, lapping at it, licking, until he finally drew away with a soft groan of his own.

He leaned up, kissing those inviting lips again in a lazy, sloppy kiss. He laughed lightly when his brother groaned, frustrated when he couldn’t lean up far enough to get in another kiss as he pulled away. He dropped another soft kiss on his lips, grinning at the pleased sound Sam made as their lips connected briefly.

He decided it was time to up the ante a little. He grinned, scooting down a little on the bed. He placed a hand on either side of Sam’s slender hips, mesmerized for a moment by the play of his abdominal muscles as he shifted beneath his hands. He slowly felt along Sam’s hips, and then slowly, methodically, he pulled and tugged, removing the soft fabric. He pushed the boxers down long legs, then grinned as Sam shifted, kicking the boxers off on the other side of the bed.

He looked back down at his brother’s body and felt a corresponding jerk in his dick. Why had he never been into guys before? God, Sam was hot, all laid out like that. He eyed his brother’s cock hungrily, loving how engorged it looked: all red and angry and ready to . . . he tore his eyes from the enticing sight and moved his gaze up Sam’s chest, to his face.

“God, Sam, you’re so damn sexy.” He almost growled the words, and was taken aback by the quick, deep flush that colored Sam’s cheeks. Then his brother turned his head, closing his eyes and swallowing deeply. He was shy. Little brother was embarrassed. For some reason, rather than wanting to tease him silly about that fact, Dean thought it was even sexier.

“Look at me, Sam.” He whispered the words, not surprised that Sam shook his head slightly in answer, head still averted and eyes still firmly shut. “That’s an order, dude. Seriously, look at me.”

Sam slowly turned his head and opened his eyes, meeting Dean’s hungry gaze. His eyes dropped and Dean reached out, cupping his chin and tilting his head back until he was again meeting his gaze.

“Sam?”

“I’m sorry.” He drew his eyebrows together in confusion. What was he apologizing for? He again dropped a knee carefully in between Sam’s legs and then stretched out, laying on his side next to his brother. He propped up on his elbow and rested the side of his head on his hand. Their faces were inches apart. He lazily rubbed light circles on Sam’s stomach, inching just slightly lower, until he was almost touching his dick. All the while, he kept his eyes on Sam’s face, watching the play of arousal, confusion and embarrassment. That was when he understood.

“Sam, you don’t have to be embarrassed around me.” Sam’s eyes widened. Sam didn't need to know he wasn't quite the expert in man sexin', when his little brother was obviously more nervous about it then he was. Sex was sex, as far as Dean was concerned, after all. He smiled softly at Sammy. “I know you’re not used to this, but you can trust me. I’ll take care of you. Okay?”

“I’m . . .” Dean grinned and put a hand over Sam’s mouth, cutting his words off. “You talk too much, it’s time to be quiet now.”

He felt the second Sam relaxed, sinking a little more into the bed. His hands were still clenched beside his head, giving Dean an idea.

“I want you to touch yourself, Sam.” He saw his brother’s mouth open and close in shock and grinned. Sam’s eyes were huge, almost pleading. “Come on, touch yourself for me, I wanna see.”

He smiled at him encouragingly and leaned in for a soft, lingering kiss on the lips, pulling away when he felt Sam relax marginally. He watched as Sam slowly pulled his right arm down, trailing his hand along his abs before gripping his cock hesitantly. The younger man closed his eyes then, gasping at the initial contact. Dean watched hungrily as Sam slowly stroked his hardness, almost tentatively.

Dean backed off the bed, and when Sam’s eyes flew to meet his, he reassured him.

“Be right back, Sammy.” He walked swiftly into the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet, grabbing the Vaseline there. He glanced around the bathroom. No shampoo or conditioner, no freakin' lotion. Vaseline sucked, he knew that much from his many years' experience jerking off. But he didn't see a better option. Stupid demi-god asshole. He used his free hand, unbuttoning, unzipping his jeans as he walked back to the bed. He’d left his boots off earlier, making it easier still to shimmy and then kick his way clear of his jeans. He set the Vaseline on the bed and dropped his boxers before climbing back into the bed, resting on his knees beside Sam.

Sam was still stroking lightly, and Dean looked back up at his face to see the flush was back. He’d never come at that rate, so Dean opened the Vaseline, changing his plans just slightly.

“Sammy . . .” He took a small handful of the oily stuff, reaching for his brother’s cock. “Here. Let me . . .” He worked the slick cream into Sam’s already swollen cock, gripping the throbbing erection and liberally spreading the lube all over the shaft. He played with the head, rubbing the Vaseline carefully around the tip. He placed Sam’s hand back on his cock, putting his over top of it, guiding him, squeezing his fingers slightly. While he knew for a fact his brother was well-practiced in the fine art of jerking off, he had a feeling he wasn’t used to doing it with an audience. So he placed his hand over Sam’s, guiding him to a faster pace and only slowing as he felt Sam tense and moan in pleasure.

Time to push that envelope again. He was achingly hard, watching and . . . helping (he smiled). While it would be easy enough to take care of it himself, he thought it might be a good idea to tap Sam for some help. Sam was too awkward, shy almost, around him. And he wanted that to change, wanted him to feel comfortable with their nakedness, them touching and . . . stuff.

“Touch me, Sammy.” He met his brother’s once again shocked expression with a reassuring smile. Sam’s eyes widened as they dropped lower, taking in the sight of Dean’s erection. His mouth opened and tongue darted out, licking a dry upper lip. His eyes flickered back up to meet Dean’s, then back down to his erection. “Same equipment as you, Sammy. . . . you can do it.”

Sam shifted on the bed, turning on his side to face Dean, but his eyes were still locked on his erection. When Sam’s large hand closed over his shaft a moment later, Dean groaned at the warmth, the sensation. Still slicked with Vaseline, Sam’s hand glided over Dean’s cock, causing Dean to groan again. He throbbed as his arousal grew. He was slightly amused to see a look of pure concentration on his little brother’s face as he jerked him off.

Sam’s fist was wrapped loosely around his dick, enough to cover almost the entire length in warm, moist heat. Sam slowly moved his hand up and down, looking up at Dean’s face, returning to regard his hand as it moved. Up and down, up and down and then he hesitated before continuing.

“Is this . . .okay?” Sam’s soft question shot straight through him and down to his dick and his breath caught. Dean met his brother’s eyes and saw he was serious. He nodded tightly. The hand began moving up and down again, slowly.

“Yeah, Sammy. Maybe just . . . hold a little tighter, just a little.” Sam’s grip tightened marginally and his head shot up at Dean’s groan. “Shit, yeah!”

He saw Sam smile hesitantly as his eyes shuttered closed. The stroking increased in tempo, and he shuddered at the need coursing through him. His body seemed more sensitive and his could tell he was close.

“God, Sam!” The hand stopped moving on his dick and he moaned at the loss of friction. “Don’t stop! That was awesome.”

“Oh.” He barely heard Sam’s surprised sentiment but before he could contemplate what was going through his brother’s head, before he could bother considering it, even, the motion started again, tighter even than before. He looked at Sam’s face, a little surprised to see him biting his bottom lip in concentration.

“Too much thinking . . .” He had leaned closer to Sam, whispering the words before claiming that mouth again in a searing kiss. While he distracted the younger man, he reached his hand down to envelop Sam’s still fully engorged cock. He deepened the kiss, plunging his tongue in taste the depths, while at the same time he stroked his brother.

Though his hand stuttered a few times Sam had continued to stroke, just like a trooper. Dean grinned into the kiss, feeling Sam’s breathing become harsh. He pulled away, then leaned his head into Sam’s long neck to scatter kisses against the skin there. He tasted the salty sweat and . . . just Sam . . . as he nibbled and licked his way down that long throat. Sam moaned, throwing his head back and giving Dean more of his neck to devour.

They were both moving their hands over the other’s cocks, strokes becoming more erratic now as they both shuddered, close to orgasm. Dean worked his hand over Sam’s erection; could feel it throb under his fingers. He flicked his wrist, just a little, as he stroked the head, using his thumb to tease the slit there. He felt the stiff jerk in the cock just as he heard Sam cry out hoarsely.

“Dean . . . I’m gonna . . .” Dean pulled away to watch his brother shudder through the orgasm as it engulfed his whole body. Sam trembled all over, biting his lip and throwing his head back, skin flushing before his dick responded, ropes of come spraying over both their chests. Through it all, his hand had stayed wrapped around Dean’s dick. While Sam was too preoccupied to keep stroking, Dean got a decidedly nice side benefit from Sam’s orgasm as his hand clenched . . . unclenched . . . and clenched again around his erection through his waves of pleasure.

Sam lay limp, shaking for a second after his orgasm had passed, then started stroking Dean again with a focused intensity. He watched him, eyes still dark with lust, as Dean canted his hips into the thrust of Sam’s hand.

“Oh God, Sammy . . .” He moaned, throwing his head back as the stroking moved down his entire length. He could feel his whole body tense and he threw a hand forward, connecting with Sam’s chest. He clawed the chest in front of him as he moved closer to the edge. It had to have hurt, but Sam just grunted, his hand still moving. And then, it was there . . . “I’m gonna . . .” His body tensed, arching as everything zeroed in on that one sweet place.

“Oh God.” He felt hot and cold all over as the crescendo spiked, making his body shake with effort as he fell over the edge. A loud moan escaped as he came, jerking, into his brothers hand. The large hand encircling his cock slowed to a gentle rhythm, milking his orgasm from him with soft, light strokes. After a moment, even that was too much on his sensitive organ and he pulled away. Both men flopped to their backs, breathing erratically still.

He glanced over at Sam, finding his eyes already drifting shut and a sleepy smile tugging at his thoroughly kissed lips. He smiled softly, ignoring the small feeling of unease as he moved off the bed.

Sam watched, eyes almost closed, as Dean moved around the bed, finding the boxers he had discarded earlier. He wiped his belly off and folded them over before wiping Sam’s chest and belly. Sam was already shifting onto his side as he tossed the boxers over his shoulder, rounding the bed before climbing in again.

He accepted Sam’s warmth up against him as he moved in closer, already close to being asleep. He wasn’t snuggling. No. Sam wriggled to get closer, tucking his head into the curve of his shoulder. He wrapped an arm over his shoulder and pulled the sheets up and over them both. But he wasn’t snuggling. He was just getting comfortable.

Comfortable.

So he could sleep.


End file.
